


Redeem Me, Star Probe

by crossingwinter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, I blame all of you for this, I can’t believe so many things, If you’re asking me about the plot justification you are reading this for the wrong reasons, Pegging, Post Series, Redeem you? No redeem /me/, Sexual Content, and generally Butt Stuff, and sundry other sexual positions but there’s a whole lot of pegging in this fic, but mostly I blame myself, crack and angst and smut and I take no responsibility for my actions, me after reylo: please just give me all the fics of rey pegging him thanks, me before reylo: is not into butt stuff, your author is a trash pile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: Basically in which Ben and Rey find a force sensitive double-headed dildo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bittersnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersnake/gifts), [meritmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meritmut/gifts), [diasterisms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diasterisms/gifts).



> Thanks to mneme for the [idea](http://mnemehoshiko.tumblr.com/post/169931240026/fics-im-not-writing-au-where-rey-turns-kylo-to), [Thea](http://kylorenvevo.tumblr.com) for the title, V for betaing, and No Thanks For [Nina](http://haraldskaer.tumblr.com) For Making Me Do This.
> 
> Also a general thanks to the wonderful crew in the RFFA discord chat. You know why and I'm sorry ~~that I'm not sorry~~ for all the :starprobe:s.
> 
> * * *
> 
> This is the perfect example of me as a gardener because I started out with one relationship dynamic in mind and then my brain was like nOPE HOW ABOUT THIS ONE INSTEAD.

They find it on Dantooine.

At first, Rey think that it is a stalagmite. There are many stalagmites and stalactites in the cave that she and Ben are making their way through. Rey finds them fascinating. There hadn’t been stalagmites and stalactites in the caves on Ahch-To, and she’s so used to the dry hills of Jakku that the idea that there might be water enough to drip minerals and create new rocks over centuries…

She runs her hand over one and it glows an almost electric blue under her touch.

“Ben? Should it be glowing?”

He eyes it, then reaches his hand out, and she feels the dark swirl of his Force signature ripple past her. The glowing dies as he rips whatever it was away from the rock.

“What is it?” Ben wonders aloud, looking at it closely. He prods it with a gloved finger. “It’s…not rock.”

Rey had been too focused on the—now disappeared—glowing that she hadn’t noticed the texture of the thing. It is softer than rock. Springy, somehow, while still solid.

“Is it a living thing?” But Rey knows the answer to that because she can’t feel life in it. Only…

“Let’s get back to the ship,” Ben says because he’d felt it too: the Force, faint and swirling within the hard…but not hard…thing that they’d found.

The caves could wait.

* * *

 

The archives of the Jedi had been destroyed by the Empire, but Ben seems to have access to all sorts of knowledge. He’d ripped what information he’d thought might be important onto a drive before he’d fled the First Order, and he scrolls through the file on a holopad, searching for who knows what while Rey touches the thing.

It doesn’t seem dangerous, that is sure. It’s firm, she decides. Firm is a better word for it than hard. And it is bendy, maintaining its shape as she bends it this way and that. But most importantly is that its surface is soft. It reminded her almost of an arm, or maybe—

She flushes and Ben’s head jolts up because he’d idly felt that thought. His eyebrows quirk at her for a moment and she feels herself blush.

“Well, I’m not wrong,” she says to him. “It does kind of feel like a penis.”

Ben smirks at her and she almost throws the thing at him as the thought of _I’m wider than that_ flits across her mind.

“I don’t care if you’re wider,” she says, “I’m talking about consistency. Here.”

She gets up and shoves the thing into his hand and he drops the holopad, his hand wrapping firmly around it. “Yeah. Ok. I see your point.” Rey makes a triumphant noise and pulls it out of his hand, bending it again. Ben winces. “Please don’t make a habit of that. I don’t want you to forget what you’re holding and break my dick.”

“I’m not going to forget what I’m holding,” Rey says, rolling her eyes. “For one thing, your dick doesn’t turn bright blue when I touch it.” Not that the thing had done that since they’d taken it from the cave.

She settles down in her seat again and decides she’s going to try and make it glow again. But try as she might, it won’t. She concentrates, she spreads her Force out; she even tries not to pay attention to it as she’d done in the cave but it’s no use. She thinks she can still feel the Force there, but it’s even fainter than it had been, and it feels like it’s siphoning out.

“Do you think we broke it when we extracted it?” she asks Ben. “It won’t glow.”

Ben looks up from where he continued his research and stares at the thing long and hard. Then he shrugs. “Maybe it’s shy. You didn’t even buy it dinner.”

“Oh stop that,” she mutters at him.

“It’s good form to ask before playing with—”

“It glowed for me and you’re the one that ripped it out of the cave, maybe _you_ should have gotten consent first.” Vividly, the memory of being frozen on Takodana fills her mind, his mask bearing down on her, his hand outstretched.

 _I’d say I’m sorry for that,_ his thoughts cross her mind, _and I am. But I’m also not. I don’t regret anything that brought you to me._

She gets up, placing the thing on her seat and crosses to straddle his lap, and pressing her lips to his. The holopad falls to the floor again, forgotten, and it’s many hours before either one of them thinks about their discovery from the caves.

* * *

The thing remains a mystery to them for several months. They keep it aboard the _Falcon_ in a box along with some other random artifacts from their travels. Ben takes meticulous notes about each of his discoveries, but the thing from the caves on Dantooine remains a mystery.

On a trip to Coruscant, they visit the Grand Library, which boasts of having saved _some_ of the Jedi texts, and it’s there that Ben loses himself in books for hours on end while Rey explores the city-planet with Rose and Finn. _Nerd,_ she thinks fondly to herself, knowing that he might hear and also knowing that she doesn’t care. Ben likes reading, she’s learned. It was the one thing that could keep him calm when he was a kid, could keep the voices in his head quiet because other voices sprang out of the screens and pages he read and quieted them.

She expects him to lose himself for a day before joining her planetside. But as the week progresses and she’s barely seen him except when he stumbles into bed next to her, she finds that it starts to rankle. Even his lips on her cunt every night —an apology of sorts for he senses her annoyance, while also refusing to bend to her wish that he’d spend some time with her and her friends—doesn’t quite make up for the absence of him during the day. She hadn’t realized how accustomed to him she’d become.

On the ninth day of their visit, Ben finds them in as the sun is setting and there’s a look of triumph on his face. “What is it?” she asks after kissing him quickly.

But he doesn’t tell her until later, when they’ve reached their room again, and he’s excitedly tugging his holopad out of its case. “It’s called a Star Probe,” he tells her. “And as far as I can tell, they’re useless in terms of pretty much everything. They have a core that glows when it’s absorbing the Force, but it fades over time.”

“Why can’t I make it glow then?” Rey demands and that’s when Ben’s face begins to go red.

“It needs to be…inside something in order to absorb the Force to glow. So in the cave it was inside a rock. Apparently that’s where they develop, in stalagmites and such, and usually they’ll give off one big shock of light like that when you touch them after they’re finished developing, but they use all their stored energy to do it. And once its outside…”

“So we need to build a socket for it?”

Ben doesn’t reply. His face is too hot and Rey nudges his mind with hers and the words tumble over themselves. _There’s a tradition of using them to fuck people, apparently. Artists will make them glow if you know what I mean and then carve patterns into them and…_

“So we’re supposed to fuck it to make it artistic?” Rey asks. She eyes the Star Probe, almost exasperated at the dumb thing.

“You’re the one who pointed out that it felt like a penis,” Ben says, his voice low.

“So you want to stick this thing up me?” It had been pretty when it glowed, and she wants it to glow again, but this is ridiculous.

“I mean, we don’t have to do anything with it,” Ben says quickly, and he reaches his hand out for hers, squeezing it and pulling her closer to him to stand between his legs. “I love you more than anything and I’d never want you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. I just—you wanted to know why it wouldn’t glow and—”

She bends her lips to his because he’s babbling and he does that when he’s nervous or upset. He has a remarkable talent for putting his foot in his mouth, really.

His lips are so soft against hers. How she loves his lips—loves how gentle they are when the rest of him is so hardened—even if he is starting to let that hardened shell crack. _What will you be when it’s done_ , she wonders, not for the first time. His hands are on her hips now, large and firm and clearly trying to calm her from whatever annoyance…

And she realizes what it is—it’s not the implication that he fuck her with that Star Probe, it’s that he has been gone for over a week, trying to understand what the thing is. So she murmurs into his lips, “It’s your discovery—you should go first,” and she hears his breath hitch.

* * *

She is sure that Ben gets some sort of twisted joy out of the idea of fucking in his parents’ bed this way. He says it’s because the bed that Han and Leia had shared on the _Falcon_ is frequently closer to their own when they’re getting heated up and want to get horizontal as fast as they can. Rey is _not_ short but he’s a good eight inches taller than her, and lying down makes it easier for them to kiss. So when they’re ready, any bed will do.

At least that’s what Ben had told her the first time they’d ended up in his parents’ bed.

Now she thinks it’s habit more than anything else. They’ve spent enough time there that it feels more like their bed than the one they’d chosen when they’d first laid claim to the _Falcon_ —not that anyone would have denied them it except for Chewie, who sensed he didn’t stand a chance. But Ben still calls it his parents’ bed, and Rey hasn’t got the heart to correct him just yet.

 _Maybe if we have kids of our own one day,_ she thinks before shoving that thought as far from her head as she possibly can.

She’s about to fuck Ben Solo in the ass with a Star Probe—she is _not_ thinking about children.

If Ben catches that thought in her mind, he makes no note of it. His face is tense as he spreads towels out on the bed and begins to strip off his clothes. There’s something decidedly unsexy about it.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re nervous,” Rey tells him. “It was just an idea.”

“No, I want to,” he replies at once, but he’s not looking at her. “It’s just…” she catches a swirl of emotions from him—nerves, embarrassment, trust, love—and she steps towards him right as he’s stripping his pants down his legs. She kisses his spine and runs her hand along it.

“I love you,” she whispers, and when he stands again, he stoops to kiss her deeply, his hands brushing her hair out of her face. “If it’s too much, we’ll stop.”

 _It won’t be too much_ , Ben’s voice tells her and not so much words as sensations fill her—the feeling of his own fingers playing with his ass on days when he’d felt as though he didn’t deserve to touch—

“Does this feel like a punishment?” Rey asks sharply, guilt filling her. She _had_ been annoyed that he’d spent more time reading than with her on Coruscant. But if he thought that meant that she was frustrated with him, that this was supposed to reprimand him. She feels ill.

“No,” he says, his lips now brushing against the top of her head, and she can smell him even as his thoughts press into her head again: how good his own hands had felt, how hot his come had been as it had streaked his chest in one of the better orgasms he’d ever felt until he’d pressed himself into her for the first time, until he’d felt the overpowering way she’d loved him as her tongue had slid across his chest.

She feels him beginning to stiffen and her lips are at his throat, sucking at his skin. She likes how quickly her lips leave bruises on him, how for all his scars and pains, these can be remnants of love peppered across his body. He has grumbled in the past about how her skin _never_ bruises no matter how hard he sucks and she knows he wants to mark her too. _You don’t have to mark me to have me,_ she has thought to him when she’s sensed that frustration. _I have to mark you to make you forget the rest._

“If you like it in your ass, why didn’t you tell me?” she asks him gently, her lips not leaving his skin.

“I…” he swallows. “I didn’t have any complaints with what we were doing.”

She rolls her eyes. “You can ask to try things,” she says, running her hands along his ribs now, loving the way his muscles feel over the bone. “You can ask me to do things.”

“I didn’t have any complaints,” he repeats stubbornly and Rey wonders what she’s missing, but decides it’s a conversation for later.

She pushes him onto the bed and he lies back, propping himself on his elbows, and his face isn’t stiff anymore. He is naked and Rey is still fully clothed and he watches her as she shrugs off her shirt, flexing the muscles in her abdomen because she knows how much he loves to see them bunched there. She’s been told many times that men like breasts, but she’s learned over time that Ben loves her abs; loves the way they crunch together when he’s making her come; loves the way they flex when they spar. His eyes go dark when he sees them now and it’s as though he has to remind himself that she also has breasts when she starts unwrapping her breastband. She spins herself around as she’s unwrapping it and then, with her back to him, unfastens the button of her pants and bends down as she strips them off her legs, knowing that he’ll appreciate the view of her ass and the way her cunt peaks between her legs in that position.

When she turns back around, he’s fully hard and his eyes are dark, and she’ll never get over the look of him spread out like that before her—the way the lines of his chest and stomach draw her eyes directly to his cock and the thick dark hair that grows at the base of it. She has licked her way along each of those lines, has kissed every scar she has found there, has nipped at every freckle. That he is hers and always will be—that has been her truth for so long now. It feels like it’s been her truth for forever in some way.

She goes to stand at the foot of the bed and his eyes are locked on hers. The Star Probe is lying on the blankets next to his leg, as is a bottle of lubrication. She spreads his legs and kneels on the bed, crawling her way up until she’s settled just beneath his hips. He shifts, bringing his knees up to his chest, exposing himself to her as she opens the bottle of lube and douses her fingers with it. “It may be a little chilly,” she warns him, “But I’ll warm you up, I promise.” It occurs to her as she says this that the probe itself might be cold so she picks it up and tucks it between her legs so that her heat will warm it for him.

He doesn’t say anything, but she feels the trust in him and bends to kiss one of his shins. She runs her un-lubed hand along his thigh and he breathes in deeply as she begins to run the lube against his ass. “Tell me if I need more,” she says as she circles two of her fingers over him. She’d meant lube, but from the way he sends images into her mind, he had interpreted her words a little differently and he presses himself against her fingers, urging them into him. His muscles clench around her fingers and he goes still.

She waits, watching him closely. His eyes are closed now, and his breathing is uneven and his lips are parted slightly. “Everything all right?” she asks after a moment.

“It’s been a while,” he mumbles. “So it’s a bit—”

But whatever it is he doesn’t articulate. He doesn’t show her either and she takes her free hand to rub it along his leg again. She kisses his ankle since it’s right there, and she waits until he begins to move against her hand again. She focuses on the feel of him, cataloguing the ways the inside of him is so different from the feel of the inside of herself. He’s dryer, and tighter, and she knows that somewhere in there, there’s a prostate she should be looking for. But mostly right now it’s the feeling of his opening, and how tightly it’s clenched around her fingers.

 _We’re not going to get very far if he doesn’t relax_ , she thinks and she pulls her fingers halfway out of him and widens her fingers. He lets out a whine and she freezes. “Too much?”

“No. Good,” he manages to grit out and she does it again, before adding in a third finger. “Krifffffff,” he moans when she pushes her fingers in as deep as they’ll go. “Right there—that’s the spot,” and he rocks himself against her hand and she memorizes the shape of it, the angle she’s using to hit it for later.

She kisses his shin again and withdraws her hand, pulling the Star Probe out from between her legs and opening the bottle of lube again, this time slathering the probe with it. When she looks up at him again, his eyes are open and he’s watching her and she can’t read the expression on his face. “Ready?”

He nods and she bends the Probe slightly so she can get a better grip at this angle before pressing it into his ass slowly. It is wider than her fingers had been and Ben tenses around it for a moment. “Do you need me to—” Rey begins but he cuts her off.

“Just a second. Let me…” So she waits. She waits and even before her eyes, the Star Probe begins to glow ever so faintly. “Ok—keep going.”

And she presses it in deeper and Ben’s whole body seems to tremble from it. His dick is leaking precum onto his stomach and Rey leans up and licks it off, which elicits another “Kriff,” from him as the skin of her cheek and some of her hair brushes against his sensitive skin.

When she sits back up, she pulls the Star Probe out of him a little ways before pushing it back in slowly. Ben makes little noises in the back of his throat every time she pushes it into him, and it’s not long before he’s begging her for more.

She can feel him losing control the way he does when they have sex, can feel the way his own feelings and emotions—usually precise offerings when he doesn’t have the words to say what he needs her to know—begin to flood her and Rey grabs one of his knees because fuck if it doesn’t feel incredible. She doesn’t have the Star Probe in her ass, doesn’t even have a prostate for it to be brushing against, but she feels herself begin to swell with the feeling of how it’s fucking Ben, of how it feels inside her. She begins to move the thing faster and Ben thrashes on the bed, pulling away from the Probe, so lost is he in his own pleasure and Rey tells him firmly, “Stop that,” and he freezes.

She eases him back to where he’d been before and slows her thrusting. “Please,” he begs her, “Please, faster.” But it had been too much too fast, she thinks and the probe is really a lovely shade of blue right now—the color that his grandfather’s lightsaber had been before they’d broken it. She feels heat—his? hers?—pooling in her stomach and when she does begin to speed up the pace again, she feels herself begin to clench around nothing.

Her mind is spinning with need and she can’t tell if it’s hers or Ben’s and she doesn’t particularly care because she needs something there, needs him, needs it, needs her own fingers, but _something_.

“Ben,” she chokes out at the same moment that his eyes fly open and he says, “Rey.”

They stare into one another, feeling everything and he is sweating and flushed and his lips are red and swollen from him biting them and she wants to fuck him so much, _so much_ but she doesn’t know if that’ll be too much. He doesn’t sit up—the Star Probe in his ass won’t let him, but he does reach down and grab her hand. Then he wiggles his way a little further up the bed, pulling the Star Probe and Rey with him it takes Rey a moment to see why he’s doing it before realizing that there’s a little more room on the bed for her to—

“I love you,” she whispers.

 _I know_ , he thinks before saying, “I love you,” back to her.

She bends the Star Probe—now glowing nearly as brightly as some of the lights in the _Falcon_ so that it’s nearly straight again before scooting herself away from Ben. Then she lines it up with her and sighs when she feels it push into her. It’s warm, and not as thick as him—she feels bemused pride from him that she’d thought that. Sex, more than anything else, makes the two of them share everything, feel as though they are one being rather than two. But it will do nicely and she drives herself against it, pushing it as deep as it will go. The angle she needs to lie at for Ben to be able to grind himself down onto it isn’t quite the best so she ends up sitting up slightly and grabbing onto his thighs for balance and _fuck_ if that’s not a good angle, the Probe pushing deeper into her than she’d thought would be possible and making her eyes roll into the back of her head.

It takes them a few moments to find the right rhythm after that so that the Probe that they’re both fucking pleasures more than teases. When Rey opens her eyes again, she sees that Ben’s thrown one of his arms over his face and he’s worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. His chest is red from the flush of what they’re doing and his dick is leaking cum onto his stomach and Rey’s never in her life seen him look like this, look so lost him the feeling of it and perhaps if she weren’t lost in it _with_ him, she’d wonder if there was something that she couldn’t sate in him, something that made her not enough. But there’s a fierce pride in her that knows that this—what they’re feeling right now, what they’re fucking together—this had been her doing, her idea, and she now knows that if ever she wants to see this look on him again, all she’ll have to do is shove the Star Probe up his ass.

Sex shouldn’t be the same every time. Sometimes she wants him gentle inside her, sometimes she wants to ride him until she’s breathless. And sometimes, apparently, she wants to fuck him in the ass until he loses control.

She knows that he felt those thoughts because he lets out a cry and she can feel the way his dick is throbbing as it starts to shoot hot cum up his chest, can feel the warm wet as if he’s marking her chest with it. He thrashes slightly as he comes and her hands are still gripping his thighs for balance and the way his legs move shifts her into a new angle and now her head is spinning because if his pleasure washing through the Force to her hadn’t been enough to make her come, this angle certainly is.

She wants to collapse backward, to let the boneless weight of post orgasm have her while her cunt continues to twitch around the Star Probe. But instead she pulls herself off it and—

“Stars, look at it.”

Ben’s lying there with his eyes closed, clearly having been content to let the euphoria take him. “I can’t move,” he mumbles, and Rey presses a hand to his legs and slowly pulls the bright blue pulsating Star Probe out of his ass. It’s shining like the galaxy when they’re flying through hyperspace. She wipes it off with the towel underneath them then climbs up Ben’s chest so that she’s straddling him just below his ribs, her cunt resting against his cum.

He opens his eyes then squints because the thing is shining so brightly.

“We did that?”

“Yeah, we did.”

“ _Force_.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’s while they’re cleaning the _Falcon_ on Bespin that Ben broaches the subject of the Star Probe.

“I want to use it again,” he says quietly, his elbows sopping wet from the soapy substance that his uncle Lando had recommended using to try and get years of filth and grime off the insides of the ship.  “ _Your dad loved the old girl, but he never kept her clean_ ,” Lando had said, rolling his eyes when they’d shown up in Cloud City.  Rey likes Lando Calrissian.  He has an easy smile, but more importantly, he doesn’t seem to begrudge Ben anything.  Maybe he just doesn’t know, or maybe it’s as Ben told her curled up their second night as Lando’s guests—that Lando and his dad were always the types to look forward and not look back, to try and let bygones be bygones and remember the good rather than the dark.

“I’m surprised it took this long to bring it up,” Rey teases as she scrubs.  “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

He pauses, looking at her warily.  “I caught that thought you had,” he said.  “In the mix of everything.  About wondering if there was something in me you couldn’t…satisfy.  And that’s not the truth, it’s never the truth, and I don’t want you to think it is.”

She can tell he’s about to send a bunch of memories her way to prove it, a veritable arsenal of the ways he loves her heart, her mind, her soul, her body—what her body can do to him, how he’s never felt more alive, more whole than when he’s inside her, et cetera, et cetera, but she smiles at him and the memories don’t flood her mind. 

“Did you catch the part about how I liked knowing that I was making you feel that way?” she asks, not bothering to keep the smile out of her voice.  “About how I was a part of it, even if it wasn’t how we usually fuck?  Because Ben—I’ve never seen you like that, and I like it when you let go.”

He was remarkably bad at letting go, she’d learned, which was ironic since he’d once accused her of being unable to do so.  The pain of his youth still pulsed under his every waking moment, and it required so much work for him to begin to ease it. She could teach him so much about how to suppress his own pain, but she knew that Leia’s assertion that he had to be the one to work on himself, and that she couldn’t do that work for him was true.  So instead she encouraged what she could from afar—and if he could let go with that Star Probe up his ass, then she’d fuck him with it as often as he wanted, as often as he needed.  

She plunges her rag into the soap and soaks it up, wrings it dry again, then sets herself to scrubbing.  “If you know that there’s not some part of you I can’t sate, then I’m not worried about it.  I imagine you’re also overthinking it.”

“Overthinking it?” Ben asks.

“Yes.  Because that’s what you do.  You overthink everything.”

“I do not,” he snaps playfully, shaking his rag at her to send droplets of water over her and she lets out a squeal, sending water back at him with her rag. 

“Because I don’t suppose it occurred to you that part of why you enjoyed it so much was because I was involved in it, did you?”  That gives him pause.  “Those memories you showed me, of you playing with yourself—you said it was the best orgasm you’d had _until me_.  So maybe the reason you came so good with that Star Probe was because I was there with you.  I was fucking you.”  He doesn’t say anything at all, but she does catch a faint flush around his ears.  “Yeah, that’s right,” she teases triumphantly.  “Anyway, the poor thing’s gone dark again.  We don’t want it to die.”

“It’s not a living creature, Rey,” he says dryly.

“I’m joking, Ben.  Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

* * *

 

He does want her to fuck him, so she does.

She has him lying on his back and is straddling his chest, lubing the Star Probe up while he runs his hands up and down her spine.  She has decided to give him a different view this time—if he has his eyes open at all—because why not.  Why not, and this way she can rub herself against his torso which she always loves doing.

She bends the Star Probe nearly in two so that she can maneuver it more easily from this angle before leaning forward and pulling his knees up once again.  Then she leans forward begins to press into him with her lube-slicked fingers, teasing at his asshole as he sighs behind her. 

His hand runs over the curve of her ass and as she’s fingering him, she hears him ask, “Do you ever want to try it?”

“Anal?”

“Yeah.”

She considers it for a moment, imagines him behind her, filling her, consuming her.  She likes the image of it just fine—though maybe that’s because she’s never been averse to him fucking her from behind.  “Not tonight, but sure.”

He crunches underneath her, muscles rippling and she feels his lips and teeth sucking on the skin of her ass.  “You have the most beautiful ass in the galaxy,” he whispers to her.

“That is not true,” she says dryly, her fingers in his.

“I think it is.”

“Well, I appreciate your taste, but I wouldn’t call it objective.  You have a remarkable bias.”

“Do I?”  She brushes her fingers against his prostate and he lets out a strangled, “Kriff,” and she swears she sees his hardened cock grow even longer.  Rey grins.

“I think loving me is a bias.  And one I will take, even if you’re not being objective.”

“Objectively speaking,” he begins but his voice fades away because Rey’s removed her fingers from him and he knows what’s coming as she presses the lubed Probe against his anus and pulls it towards her, pulls it deeper into him.  Immediately, it begins to glow.

“Objectively speaking?” she teases as she eases the Probe in and out of him, her tits brushing against his stomach, her lips close enough to his dick that he can undoubtedly feel her breath. 

“I don’t remember,” Ben says. 

“Glad to know my so-called best ass in the galaxy is so memorable when it’s right in your face.”

“Forgive me for being distracted by your world-class cunt which is also in my face.”

“And it’s not the Probe in your ass?”  She pulls it deeper into him and he lets out a moan. 

“ _Fuck_ , Rey.”

“I think I’m the one fucking you right now.”  

 

The Probe is getting bright enough now to cast a focused light right over his dick from how she’s holding it and she rolls it from side to side, hitting new angles inside him and he lets out a stream of curses.  Rey smiles as she watches his dick bob against his stomach.  He’s already leaking precum and entirely because he’s being a bit cheeky, Rey bends her head and licks the tip of his dick.

He bucks into her mouth and it hadn’t occurred to her when she’d straddled his chest earlier that she’d be able to feel the way his lungs are working very hard between her knees.  But she can—can feel as well as hear how ragged his breath is and she senses that their bed banter is over for the rest of the night.

She runs her tongue over the tip of his dick very slowly and she feels his hands tighten on her calves.  His grip is unbelievably tight and she slows the movement of the Probe as well.  Now is a time for teasing, she decides.  Now is a time for edging the fuck out of him because if he’d lost complete control last time, she wants him to be even more gone this time.

So she laps at his dick, feels him urge his hips up, pressing himself towards her lips and onto the Star Probe at once.  She tugs at the Probe and the motion pulls his hips even higher up with it from how it’s hooked inside him.  Even as she’s doing this, she takes the whole of his crown between her lips, holding him like that for just a moment, letting the taste of him fill her mouth, letting the glow of the Star Probe fill her eyes as it grows brighter and brighter the longer that it’s inside him.

His hands leave her calves, trail up her legs.  She feels him trace circles into the muscles of her backside before they take a firm hold of her hips and he tugs at them, pulling her up the bed.  He lifts one knee so that it’s resting over his shoulder, then the other and Rey finds herself stretched out far more than she likes because his torso is so damn long, and even if his dick is _also_ pretty damn long, they’ve done this before and had found it only had really worked when they were on their sides, and certainly not when he’s lying flat on his back ridiculously long back. 

But even as he urges her hips lower and lower so that she’s practically sitting on his face, she realizes that this is easier than the last time they’d tried it with him below and her above—his hips are canted up, his knees on either side of her head and that angle takes a few inches off the length of his torso, and those few inches seem to have made all the difference.

Oh this was about to get significantly more interesting than Rey had expected.  Especially because he hasn’t even started licking her yet but she can already feel the way his sensations are starting to creep into her own.  Her teasing him has started to wear down his control and she can feel her own heart begin to race in time with his as she continues to work the shining Probe into him.  She can feel her own tongue—and his when he finally begins to lick at her clit.

To say that Ben is good at licking her cunt is an understatement.  He _hadn’t_ been the first few times, but he had really set himself to the task of learning how to do it properly and Rey had been more than gratified with the results.  There was a reason he’d done it every night in Coruscant when he’d spent more time in the library than with her—he could make her come in thirty seconds with just his tongue if he wanted to.  Or he could tease her out for nearly an hour just because he felt like it, just because he wanted to tease her.  Which seems to be his plan right now.  

She shouldn’t be surprised by that, given what she’s doing to him.  They’d always fought well together, matching fury and speed and strength and creativity.  Even now, when they spar, there is an odd joy to knowing that if defeat came, it would not be easily earned.  Rey had fought hard her whole life and did not particularly like defeat.  So when Ben’s presses light kisses to the folds of her cunt, nudges at them with his nose, traces his tongue into each damp crevice, and makes her legs start to shake, Rey can only return the strike, guiding the Star Probe into him so that it only _just_ brushes near his prostate but never _quite_ the way he wants it.  She runs her tongue along the length of his dick, and circles the tip of it, but she doesn’t take him deep into her mouth and suck at him though she knows from the unconscious bucking of his hips that that’s all that he wants from her. 

She can feel the way the Star Probe is sparking pleasure inside him, she can feel the heat it’s sending through him curl up into her stomach.  The thing is getting so bright it’s practically blinding her now, and she closes her eyes against the brightness, letting herself sink into the sensation of the two of them swirling together like this.  Gods it feels good to fuck him with it, to feel herself fucking him with it even as his tongue only ever brushes _around_ her clit and never on it—doubly painful for she can feel her own tongue not bringing him relief in exactly the same spot.  And as her stomach begins to clench, as her legs shake almost too much for her to bear, the only things that keep her from losing herself to it are her own steely determination and the knowledge that if she’s edged, he’s edged too.

He takes pity on her, and he brings his hands up to her hips, holding her and taking some of the weight off of her legs.  Chivalrous, she thinks even as she pants.  Or perhaps simply he knows that victory that comes because her legs give out isn’t the same as victory because he’s broken her determination in this.  If he were _truly_ chivalrous, he’d stop edging her, she decides—a thought which earns her a wave of mild amusement from him. 

Ordinarily, she’d punish him by making him gasp, by pumping his dick so hard he forgot his own name, but instead she decides to pull the Star Probe most of the way out of him and just leave it there for a moment while she nuzzles at the skin where his balls meet his cock. 

He lets out a whine and that is all the begging she needs.  Rey slams the probe back into him, hard and fast and a moment later she’s licked her way to the end of him and pulled him all the way into her mouth, as deep as she can take him.  He doesn’t even know what’s hit him and a moment later he’s choking her name into her cunt as he shoots thick ropes of cum down her throat, his whole body convulsing from the orgasm and sending rippling pleasure echoing through her own muscles.

She releases his dick with an enjoyable pop and works the Probe out of his ass and tosses it to the floor to clean later while he catches his breath from the orgasm she’d just snuck on him.  It’s as she’s trying to decide if he’s too fucked out to continue that she feels his lips wrap around her clit and suck hard.  His tongue prods into it, his teeth scrape lightly against it and then he delves into her with his tongue, pushing as deep as he can and curling up to massage the inside of her in just the spot that always makes her tremble when it’s his fingers inside her. 

Rey leans forward, resting her hands on his stomach, feeling the pressure build inside her—only hers now that he’s come—as he nudges her clit with a finger, as his tongue continues to pry within her, as her heart thuds faster and faster and his hands grip her hips even tighter because he knows how close she is because he knows how to work her cunt with his face and _fuck_.

She clenches around his tongue and blood roars through her body, her lungs laboring to breathe.  Her head is spinning away in far off galaxies and it’s only when her clit is too sensitive for his touch anymore that she jerks her hips away from his face.

She lets him help her shift around so that her head is resting on his chest because she’s too boneless to do it herself and he’s recovered a little bit.  His hand is resting in her hair and she can feel his heart beating beneath her ear and there’s a bright blue glow in the bedroom but neither of them feel like moving enough to cover the Star Probe up.


	3. Chapter 3

The _Falcon_ is cleaner than it’s ever been in Ben’s lifetime—or so he says—but Rey is extremely certain that, no matter how filthy Han Solo’s ship had been, he had never defiled it quite the way that Rey and Ben do.

The Star Probe has gone dark again. That is how they decide it is time to use it again. They don’t want to overpower the poor thing (“Still not a living creature,” Ben grumbles). So they wait—sometimes weeks at a time depending on how thoroughly they’ve fucked it—before deciding how to use it again.

It seems like the right amount, Rey decides after her most recent bout of fucking Ben senseless with it. Too much would make it less special, and it’s not as though they don’t _enjoy_ sex without it. If anything, she’s found inspiration in the strange item. Rey has taken, from time to time, to slicking her fingers and penetrating him when he’s about to cum inside her. Ben likes that a lot—more than he is usually able to articulate after the orgasm causes him to collapse senseless onto the bed. But she can feel it in him, and she will never be over being able to thoroughly undo this man. Especially when he will pull her into his arms afterwards and press kisses to her cheeks and cradle her until he falls asleep.

The curiosity that had led Ben to ask if Rey wanted to try anal did not fade which was how, a week after the initial question, she ended up on all fours while he spent a good long time stretching her out before pressing into her with a hiss. She liked the sensation of it well enough once she got used to it, and maybe it would get better the next time. (She could feel his approval when she thought the words _next time_ , just as much as she could feel how much he liked how tight her ass was around his dick, how much he loved her ass and how much he loved the sight of himself fucking it.) He thumbed her clit while he thrust into her—or at least he did until he lost control completely and filled her with hot spunk and collapsed forward on top of her, taking her down onto the bed with him. Then, because he had been raised with manners befitting the heir of a destroyed royal family, he urged her up to sit on his face until she was also unable to hold herself up.

The Star Probe—far from making Ben feel as though there was something in him that Rey could not sate—seemed only to make him _hungrier_ for her, and Rey could not even begin to complain about that.

This time, when Ben is lying on the bed watching Rey strip, his resting his head on his arms above his head, and he’s smirking as she shrugs her pants down her legs. He has one ankle crossed over the other and his dick is already hard and flushed with blood as Rey moves around the room, collecting lube, towels, and, at last, their friend the Star Probe.

“And what do you have planned for us this time?” Ben asks. “I’ve got some ideas if you need help.”

“If you’ve got some ideas maybe _you_ should be the one setting up not me,” she teases, waving the Star Probe at him in mock reprobation. “But until you’re the one doing all the prep work, I’m in charge. I don’t tell you what to cook.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to cook,” Ben responds, his lips quivering as he tries not to laugh. “But I do know how to fuck myself with that thing.”

Rey cocks her head, and feels her lips curl in a smirk. Then she opens the bottle of lube, begins slathering the Star Probe with it, and hands it to him. “Go on then. Fuck yourself with it.”

His eyebrows twitch. He had not expected that. Rey hadn’t either, but she quite likes the idea of standing over him, watching him pleasure himself. She’s always liked watching him palm his cock, so why would this be any different?

He sits up, the muscles in his abdomen rippling, and takes the Star Probe from her. Then he holds out his other hand and she squirts lube onto his fingers which he brings down between his legs and begins working into himself, his eyes still locked on hers. Rey has to work to control her breathing. If she’d been asked a year ago if she would have thought it was hot watching Ben finger his own asshole while staring at her like that, she would have laughed—or maybe blushed and stammered some sort of incoherent reply. A year ago, she wasn’t quite as used to sex as she is now.

His fingers are bigger than hers, but he takes them in with a practiced ease. He’d fingered himself before they’d ever known one another, after all. He knows how to keep himself happy, just as she had known the feel of her own cunt and could guide him to what she liked when he’d touched her for the first time. And his gaze—the way his lids start to droop, the way his eyes roll a little bit—she _knows_ he’s teasing himself very well. But not so well that she can feel it just yet.

When he decides he’s stretched enough, he removes his fingers and replaces them with the Star Probe, which immediately and predictably begins to glow its signature blue glow. In and out it goes, seeming to go deeper each time that he pushes it into him, and he lets out some really tantalizing moans as his eyes finally close and he begins to lose himself to the sensation of the Star Probe inside him.

Rey’s hand drifts towards her damp sex, pleased with how wet her lips are already. She bites her lip as she slides a finger inside her, but the sight of Ben with his flushed cock and the sweat starting to shine on his forehead and the Star Probe glowing away from inside his ass—well Rey knows well enough by now that a single finger isn’t going to be enough.

She crosses to the bed and straddles his hips, her dripping sex running right along his dick. Ben’s eyes fly open and he goes still underneath her, and she can see in his eyes all that he is trying to determine what she wants, what she is going to do next. She takes his free hand, kisses his palm, and then squeezes more lube onto his fingers, nudging her cunt along his shaft as she does so and making his eyelids flutter and his nostrils flare. Then she leans forward, pushing him back onto the bed and resting her head on his chest, bringing his fingers to her own ass. She doesn’t need to tell him what to do as he presses one of his fingers against her, running the lubrication over her skin as he urged her to accept him. And she does. She kisses his chest, runs her fingers along his sides, rocks her hips against his dick in one direction and his fingers in the other. She feels lazy, she feels calm anticipation, and when her lips climb to his neck, she can feel that his own pulse has slowed ever so slightly, even as she feels his cock twitch underneath her.

The hand that is holding the Star Probe is moving very slowly and she knows he wants nothing more than to push it harder and faster into himself. She can feel it in the way he is breathing unevenly underneath her. But he brushes his lips and nose against the top of her head as he presses a second finger into her.

“Do you want it or me in here?” he asks her quietly, as though worried the words will disturb the peace that the touch of him has filled her with. His fingers are thrusting in and out now and when she kisses his chest, she opens her eyes and peeks up at him.

“It,” she tells him, and she catches a slight disappointment there, and she gives him a smile that ends up much sweeter than she’d intended when first the plan had crossed her mind and says, “I want you here,” and she squeezes her cunt along his shaft.

His nostrils flare, he rolls his jaw, and he nods. Then he flips them onto their sides and sits up, finding the bottle of lube that had fallen out of her hand. He sits up as he oils the Probe and when Rey looks down, she sees how brightly it’s already glowing. He bends it, then looks down at her, a calculating expression on his face. Then he pulls her leg up over his hip, and a moment later she can feel his cock pressing into her and she sighs at the stretch of it and nips at his chest again. She loves his chest. She loves his cock. She loves him. She loves doing this with him.

She feels the probe at her ass and tilts her head up. He’s watching her closely, and whispers. “If it’s too much, you let me know.”

She nods and kisses his shoulder and, “ _Krifffffff_ ,” she hisses as he pushes the Probe inside her. She’s trembling, her hips shaking uncontrollably because gods, she has never felt this full of anything in her whole life and—and—

Ben kisses her cheek, he kisses ear, he kisses her lips, his tongue sliding into her mouth and she can feel him trembling in her arms too and knows it’s because this time—this time she was the first to lose control. They haven’t even started moving and her stomach is writhing from it, and she’s clinging to him and she’s never felt this close to an orgasm without pushing herself over but she doesn’t want to come yet, she doesn’t. Her head is spinning, her breathing is shallow, and she’s gasping into Ben’s mouth but she’s not coming and that’s what matters. The hot blood her heart is sending through her isn’t sending her into the void, it’s holding her there, holding her here with Ben.

“That’s it,” he murmurs into her lips. “Breathe. Breathe.”

And she does. She does, and it’s hard work, but she does and soon she’s not trembling.

“Are you all right?” he asks her when she feels less overwhelmed.

“Yes,” she tells him.

“You’re sure?”

And she rocks her hips very lightly against him and her eyes roll into the back of her head because his cock has always felt good—it always will—but when it’s not the only thing inside her she can feel every ridge of it that much more acutely. She even thinks, when she pauses, that she can feel the _pulse_ running through his dick, but that could be her imagination, that could be his sensation blending with hers because she’d definitely felt her vocal chords vibrate with his groan when she’d started to move.

“Rey,” he moans as she does it again. “Fuck, Rey. Fuckkkkk.”

His torso is jerking against her and she can tell that it’s a lot for him too, that this isn’t them seeing who breaks first, this is both of them clinging onto each other, trying to make it last because this—this— _this_ is more than either of them has pushed the other to before. Do parts of her body exist beyond where they’re connected? Her arms seem to be clinging valiantly to him, even her leg is still hooked over his hip but the other seems to be wholly useless and might not even be there at all for all she knows. She’s only barely rolling her hips and yet it she feels it more deeply than when she’s got her ankles on his shoulders and he’s well and truly fucking her.

“Ben,” she whimpers.

“I know, I’m…” but whatever he is, whatever she is, whatever they both are, he doesn’t seem to know how to find the words for it.

“I think we go,” she whispers. “That we just…”

“I don’t want it to be over,” he pants.

“I don’t either. But this is…” and she can’t find the words either. She’s trembling and panting and her skin is hot and cold. “Or we take it out.”

“No,” he chokes out. “No, it stays. I want it to—” She kisses him, and with what determination has not seeped out of her and into that Star Probe, she pushes them back so that she’s on top of him, and she sits up, breathing so hard she feels as though she’s been fighting for hours, for years. But she hasn’t come yet, and when she looks down at him, his eyes are full of her and his hands are coming to rest on her hips and his grip is so tight she wonders if they will do what his lips never can and leave bruises on her skin.

Her eyes drift from his hands to a bulge at the front of her stomach that she’s never seen before. She sees his dick outlined against her flesh, breaking the line of even muscles that are clenched there with the effort to keep her upright. It’s never done that before—not ever, not in the hundreds of time she’s straddled him like this. But then, she’d never had the Star Probe inside her at the same time as him before. She stares at it, and then, curiously, rests her hand over it. Ben chokes out a sob and she can see tears leaking out of his eyes now, but when she makes to remove her hand, his hand snaps to her wrist. “Leave it there,” he tells her. “Please. If we’re not going to last long…”

Because they’re not. She can tell, she can feel it, the minute she starts to move—really move, not the weak attempts at it she’d made on her side—they’ll neither of them last more than two _maybe_ three thrusts. If they get past the first.

She runs her thumb over her stomach, over his dick and the muscles in her legs tense and she ruts against him, crying out with every motion, one, two, three, four—

And ecstasy. She throws herself into it with abandon. Her heart is thudding in her chest, her cunt is gripping him so tightly that she is reminded that it is a muscle too, and her lips—her lips are babbling, curses and professions of love but mostly his name over and over again as she feels him crest which sends her head spinning even more into blissful oblivion as she collapses forward onto his chest again, as his hands clutch at her skin, as his lips try to say her name but don’t quite manage.

She can’t move. Even as he starts to go slack within her and the pressure fades, she can’t move. He can’t either.  Here in this moment and for infinite others, this is them.

And Rey doesn’t want anything more. She can’t think of anyone else who could make her feel this way, who could hold her existence in his hands and who would be there with her as they fucked themselves senseless. Not when she can’t control the way her heart is still racing; the way she can still feel aftershocks inside her; the way that Ben is holding onto her as though she is the only thing grounding his soul in this universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re a trash pile like me and want more pegging things I’ve written, there’s [one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13229922/chapters/31529256) in my tumblr ficlet collection enjoy. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, you can find me [here](http://galacticprideandprejudice.tumblr.com) on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this sin pile! Here's my [tumblr](http://crossingwinter.tumblr.com/reylo)!


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